Title: The Grand Vizier of Oz
Author: Sedri
Rating: PG-13 / T
Summary: "Please come back - you're my daughter, I'd do anything -!" She stopped, hand half-raised and ready to cast a spell. "Anything?" AU, Fiyero/Elphaba. Complete.
Disclaimer: Neither Wicked nor the world of Oz are mine in any way.
Chapter Eighteen
Questions
Year 24
Winter
"I blame Glinda," Elphaba announced wearily, her nose completely stuffed up and her voice clogged because of it. "This is– a... aCHOO!"
Fiyero picked up a fresh handkerchief from the stack – the third in an hour.
"Dank you," she said, taking the small cloth. She blew her nose, sighed and flopped back into the couch cushions, huddling in her blanket and staring at the fireplace. "This is all her fault."
"Technically it's the architect's fault," replied Fiyero, reaching to hug an arm around her shoulders. "Or whoever's responsible for keeping the palace gutters in good condition. You could probably write a whole new health and safety edict about the use of sub-standard materials," he said with a grin, nudging her, but Elphaba replied flatly:
"Oh, believe me – I will."
No, wait, there was a smile in there, a little spark of amusement in her eyes. A good laugh would probably be a welcome distraction, and in his life, Fiyero had made an art out of amusing people.
Settling back on the couch, he propped his socked feet up on the table and said, "Well, you could blame our resident Lord Shyness. He's the one that hit you, after all." With a cheeky but still rather straight face he added, "A swift execution, I think – string him up by his toes and hang him out of the north tower. Then shoot him."
Elphaba did chuckle, but shook her head and feebly whacked him. "Stop that. I like Tevien. Besides, he was so horrified and sorry about all this that I can't blame him anymore. Do you know he tried to call in another two doctors today just to make sure the first one wasn't wrong?"
"I think that's because Glinda was yelling at him. She had this awful look on her face when you fell – and you've got to admit, you could've been really been hurt. She turned completely white."
"Explains why she's been mothering me ever since," muttered Elphaba, sighing. "Hmph. Guess I can't blame her either, then."
Fiyero chuckled and kissed her still-fever-warm forehead. "Probably not."
What had happened was this: Winter had come, and with it, the heavy snowstorms that regularly decorated the Emerald City with a thick, beautiful layer of white fluff. However, this year so much had fallen that people were having real trouble getting the city's outer gates open and closed every day, not to mention hauling their goods along the various roads that lead to each far-flung province. In fact, the storms got so bad that in the week leading up to Lurlinemas some people began to seriously worry that they didn't have enough food stored to last until the weather broke. This was, of course, an unacceptable risk, and would never have happened in the first place if both Munchkinland and Upper Quadling Country hadn't lost a great deal of their harvest to blight several weeks earlier.
So, instead of enjoying the Lurlinemas celebrations, Elphaba, Fiyero, Glinda and Oscar had spent the entire holiday rationing out what supplies they had and magically clearing snow from mile after mile of road. They then assigned soldiers with snowploughs to keep it that way and arranged for shelters along each path so the travellers could stay warm at night. It took hours of talking, wheedling and outright threats to convince the merchants and farmers to make their trips to the city and to the villages that had lost so much of their own stock in autumn.
All in all, it was a miserable few weeks, so when it was all over and everyone's meals assured, Glinda stood up in the middle of breakfast and announced that they, the Leaders of Oz, were going to take the day off to have some fun.
By "fun", however, she meant indulging her inner four-year-old and playing with snow up on the palace roof.
But it wasn't that easy. Elphaba didn't want to play, Oscar didn't feel well enough to play, Lord Tevien was too shy to play, and Fiyero was more interested in snowball warfare than anything as tame as "play". Nevertheless, they played – or, shall we say, played along – and after a while Glinda's girlish, bubbly enthusiasm began to rub off on them. As usual.
The open space they called a courtyard was fairly small, but also entirely shielded from view by the tall, windowless spires that encircled and rose up above it. As the floor below was unoccupied and the only access was through a private corridor, they were able to have their fun without any worries about the press or their dignity.
Tevien Duvot, Glinda's shy but ultimately persistent suitor, had joined them. This wasn't the first time he'd been invited to spend time with Glinda's Very Important friends, but it was the first time he'd been allowed to see Oz's Press Secretary, its Grand Vizier, the Vinkun Prince and the Wizard himself in quite such an informal setting. Like the rest of Oz, he was still under the impression that the Wonderful Wizard was only taking the form of a frail old human man to avoid blinding the eyes of his mortal staff, but Glinda was considering changing that, telling him the truth, and had Oscar's blessing to do so. After a year and a half of tentative courtship, she was slowly admitting that she just might be serious about him, which was the only reason the quiet young lord was being allowed little glimpses into their until-now isolated world of secrets.
Fiyero, typically, was all too pleased with himself for getting them together in the first place, even though he'd actually had precious little to do with it. Still, it was good to see Glinda so happy.
As a Gillikin native – and, therefore, the only person besides Glinda who had played with snow as a child – Tevien had been drafted for the day's outing in order to teach the southerners how to make a proper snowman. Irony was, he spent so much time and effort trying to answer Elphaba's questions and help get her coal-eyed imitation just right that his own fell apart completely. Watching its head fall off and its too-loosely-packed body crumble, he'd looked so forlorn and embarrassed that Fiyero (who, to be honest, had been itching for an excuse all morning) threw a snowball smack into the side of the young lord's head.
Soon after, war broke out.
Because Oscar was feeling tired again – as he had been fairly often since his near-poisoning several months ago – he sat it out on a small bench on the side of the courtyard, but all the healthy young people were involved. As Fiyero had struck the first blow against Tevien, he was immediately branded the villain, and Glinda hurled a slushy wet missile right back at her former boyfriend in defence of her new one. Elphaba was therefore obliged to side with the Fiend That Was Fiyero both out of lover's loyalty and sheer fairness of numbers, which she did admirably, dragging them behind one of the skinny decorative trees and building up piles of ammunition for him to hurl with a hunter's accuracy at Glinda and Tevien. Those two were more used to such fights but hadn't thought of finding shelter, and scrambled to build a fort as fast as possible. When that failed, they took on guerrilla tactics, running circles around Elphaba and Fiyero and trying to pelt them with whatever handfuls they could scoop up along the way. All the while, Oscar was cheerfully calling out warnings or advice to whomever he felt like being nice to at the time, and waved his new cane in mock-threat at all those who tried to target him. Several times, someone slipped or fell, and within minutes two of the snowmen had been trampled, but it had been ages since any of them had been free to have this kind of exhilarating fun, and they were all laughing merrily.
Elphaba had just dashed out from her shelter and heading for a large pile of snow in one corner of the courtyard when Tevien, seeing the chance to get his first clean hit on the Grand Vizier, had hurled a rather large snowball at her, and though he'd aimed for her chest, it hit her square in the face.
Jerking back in surprise, she had flailed, slipped on one of the treacherous hidden patches of ice and fallen backwards, slamming her head into a low-hanging drainpipe. The old clay shattered and icy water poured out of what they later found to be a very clogged-up gutter, soaking her hair as she landed on the hard stone ground.
In retrospect, the scene that followed was almost funny. Yes, it hurt, and yes, it was very cold, but the panic that ensued as everyone rushed at her, asking hurried questions and treating her like a small child was ridiculous. "You're acting like it could have killed me," she'd muttered.
It couldn't have, of course, but that wasn't to say she appreciated the painful bump on her head or the small icicles forming in her hair. Oscar, of course, had panicked and scrambled across the courtyard faster than was really good for him, Glinda had shed two layers of scarves to wrap around her before they even got inside, and Fiyero had picked her up, meaning to carry her in before she fought him off, but only Tevien had done the really sensible thing and gone for help. On later reflection she decided that he'd been fleeing her as much as helping, given that after rushing to assemble the staff, sending for dry clothes, calling a doctor and ordering a maid to fill a hot bath, he did nothing but apologise, wide-eyed and convinced that he was going to be responsible for her death.
"Don't be stupid," she'd grumbled, accepting a blanket and using it to towel off her hair; "I'll be fine. It's not your fault you have such good aim. And I don't need a bath," she'd growled at the maid that tried to lead her to the washroom in her suite. "I'll just get another coat and we can go back outside."
"Elphaba, your head is bleeding," Fiyero pointed out, not realising that those words would send Oscar into another panic until it was too late, and he didn't calm down until after the palace doctor had examined her (prodding far more harshly than necessary, she thought) and proclaimed it to be just a minor cut that would be fine given time to close. Regardless, Tevien still kept apologising, trying so hard to help that he got in everyone's way, then backing off and gibbering nervous pleas for forgiveness when Glinda, irritated, snapped at him. This was hilarious in itself, given that he was taller even than the already-tall Fiyero and completely dwarfed her.
Fed up with the ruination of what had been such a wonderful day, Elphaba had stalked off to change and returned only a few minutes later, determined to resume their fun. It worked well enough, and by dinner they were making jokes about it all, but there had been an icy wind and she hadn't bothered to dry her hair properly, so it was no surprise that the next morning she was sniffling, and by nightfall was the victim of a full-blown cold.
That was how she came to be huddled in blankets in the parlour of her suite, unable to sleep, coughing and sneezing on every visitor, blowing her nose so often that her green skin was rubbed raw, and alternately boiling hot or so cold that she scooted closer to the roaring fireplace than it was strictly safe to be.
"Mmrph," she grumbled eloquently, dropping her head onto a cushion. "I hate being sick."
"Everyone hates being sick," Fiyero replied with a chuckle, tugging her closer until she leaned against him, head tucked into his shoulder and knees drawn up to her chest.
"Well, I hate it more than everyone," she replied, dabbing her runny nose again. "I feel awful. I feel drippy and sore and swollen and like the ugliest thing in Oz."
He leaned over, twisting to look at her face, which she obligingly turned towards him, and considered for a moment. "You're disgusting," he announced, and swooped down to kiss her. She pulled away almost immediately.
"Ack, don't do that!" she said, swatting him. "I've got a sore throat too, remember? I don't want you getting sick."
He shrugged, sitting back but still threading his fingers through her hair. "If I catch it, I catch it. There's probably no avoiding it now anyway, so why shouldn't we have fun?"
The echo of Glinda's favourite word made her smile. "I don't know if I'm– aCHOO!" She groaned and wiped her nose. "Don't know if I'm feeling up to that sort of fun," she finished. Fiyero grinned wickedly.
"You sure?"
She hesitated, tempted, but the headache that had been pounding since her first hour of hard coughing made itself known, and she shook her head, burying her face in his shirt. "Another time, Fiyero," she apologised, shoving off the blanket as she started to feel warm again. "It's not like we're going anywhere."
An odd expression crossed his face, though she wasn't able to see it. "No, I guess we're not," he said, a similarly odd twang in his voice. "Plenty of time, right?"
"Not if the palace gutters get their way," she replied sourly, reaching up to rub the bruised and swollen point of impact under her hair. "It's really ridiculous. This is the Emerald Palace. Ozmas have been living here since forever. You'd think that they'd put enough time and money into making sure things were safe. And yes, I know Oscar's gone and thrown a fit at the staff, but someone should've been checking anyway. It's not like they're too busy; we make sure no one's overworked. It's just not a job that anyone covers. And who builds drainpipes out of clay anymore, anyway? Those gutters must have been ancient, or else they were built out of something cheap like you said, but I just don't–"
"Marry me."
Caught off-guard, Elphaba blinked, staring at Fiyero as though he'd suddenly turned into her stuffed toy scarecrow. "What?"
He shrugged. "I was just thinking, I love this. I mean, you're sitting there rambling about some... thing–" he waved it off "–and we're curled up here and it's so comfortable and I'm happy. I'm really happy, and I don't want it to end. So," he said, leaning his chin in his hand and grinning cheekily, "Elphaba Thropp, Grand Vizier and Third Thropp Descending and Lots of Other Things That Really Aren't Important Right Now – will you marry me?"
She continued to stare, an unreadable expression in her eyes, searching his face over and over and over...
And then she ran.
In the apartment next door, Glinda woke suddenly as a muffled banging noise echoed through her rooms. It paused for a moment, then started up again, and to her sleep-addled brain it sounded like a knock, but who would be knocking at one o'clock in the morning?
Knotting the sash of her dressing gown, Glinda walked out into her immaculate parlour, feeling her way in the dark until she reached her main door. There was no one out there, but the sound was clearer now; it was coming from inside Elphaba's suite.
Glinda let herself in. The sitting room was still brightly lit by the fire, showing the mess of handkerchiefs and cough medicine that had been left on the coffee table and blankets that had been tossed across the couch. Beyond them was the door to Elphaba's bedroom, and it was there that Fiyero stood, half-dressed and hammering on the wood. "Elphaba, let me in!" he was shouting. "What is it? What's wrong?"
There was no answer, and he pulled the handle, twisting at the unforgiving metal before giving up and angrily smacking the door.
"Fiyero?"
He spun around, startled, and then his shoulders slumped. "Sorry – I woke you, didn't I?"
Though it was a lie, she shook her head. In truth, he could have woken half the palace with that racket, but this floor of the south wing was reserved for their apartments, and probably the only reason Glinda had heard at all was because the walls between rooms were fairly thin, and she'd left her own internal door open. "Are you okay?" she asked, puzzled and walking over to him. "What happened?"
Fiyero just shook his head, hands lifting as he shrugged, looking completely baffled. "I asked her to marry me."
Feeling her eyebrows shoot up in surprise, Glinda blinked, then turned to look at the doorknob. Her brow furrowed. "And she locked you out?"
"More like locked herself in," he corrected, rubbing his eyes. "And no, she didn't answer me first," he added moodily.
"What is wrong with that girl?" Glinda muttered. She sighed, shaking her head, and reached out to touch his arm. "Do you want me to talk to her?"
The look on his face was half reluctant, half worshipfully grateful. He nodded, "Thank you."
She turned to examine the lock. The knob wouldn't turn at all, which meant it was probably enchanted, but Glinda used locking spells often enough herself to have little trouble undoing Elphaba's version. A minute later she was inside, leaving Fiyero to make himself comfortable in the parlour while she faced his prospective fiancée, her certifiably insane best friend.
Really, the things she did for them. She deserved a medal or something.
Said best friend was pacing the length of carpet between window and washroom, blanket thrown off in defiance of her cold and obviously not listening to anything other than the thoughts inside her own head. She was muttering to herself, hands alternately fisting or flexing and she randomly kicked whatever furniture happened to get in her way, and looked as though she might have just stopped crying, but the symptoms of her cold made it impossible to tell.
Glinda put her hands on her hips, standing right in the light of the main lamp, making sure to be noticed immediately. "Elphie," she said firmly, "what the hell do you think you're doing?"
A range of responses crossed Elphaba's face and very nearly formed on her lips, but after a few seconds she tightened them, replied, "Pacing," and continued to do so.
"Elphie, I don't understand you. He just proposed – doesn't that make you happy?"
"I think I'm going to be sick."
She didn't seem to mean that literally, so Glinda let out a breath and said, "Come and sit down, Elphie. We need to talk."
She was ignored. After a few moments of ladylike patience, she folded her arms and moved to block her friend's route, backing her into the corner between bedpost and wall. Elphaba shoved her aside and walked on anyway. "Elphie!" she snapped.
"The answer is no, Glinda," she replied, still pacing. "That's my choice. It's none of your business what I do with my life."
"Of course it is," said Glinda, "don't you know you're making a terrible mistake?" There was no response, so she paused and sat down on the bed, taking a different tactic and trying to put herself in Elphaba's shoes. "Are you being all insecure and self-doubtiful again? Do you think he doesn't love you or something?"
"Of course not. I know he loves me." There was no trace of a lie in her voice, though it was followed by a few short, rough coughs – probably real ones.
Glinda shook her head, baffled. "Then what could possibly be wrong? Why didn't you say yes?"
"Marriage is about more than love, Glinda," her friend replied, snatching up the spare blanket and finally slowing down, leaning on a wall to look out her window at the bright white moon. Her voice was starting to sound clogged again, and now that she was in the light, Glinda could see how worn out she really was.
"Um... no. That's all marriage is about. You're in love, you get married. That's the point."
"In fairytales, maybe," said Elphaba, whirling toward her. "But life isn't a fairytale and we both know it. If it was, you and he would have been together since Shiz and we wouldn't be having this conversation."
A little quieter now, more serious, Glinda asked, "Is that what this is about? Me and Fiyero?"
"No," Elphaba replied in the same tone. "No, not really."
There was a pause then, and after a moment – because they both knew it was going to happen eventually – Elphaba sighed and walked over to the bed, sitting down next to Glinda and grudgingly accepting that they were going to talk.
Glinda waited patiently.
"Do you know how many couples in Oz get divorced every day?" Elphaba asked after a moment, pulling her knees up to her chest. "Not just the ones who petition us to settle their cases – do you know how many actual marriages end every day?"
Shaking her head, Glinda said, "No. But I think you do, don't you?"
"The statistics are in my annual reports from the provinces. Hundreds of people, every year, go back on their vows and walk away from each other, and I... don't know if I could go through that."
"You won't, Elphie," said her friend earnestly, touching her shoulder and trying to soothe her. "He loves you. It's not going to happen."
"No one gets married expecting to divorce, Glinda," she replied, pulling away from the white hand and sniffling, irritably rubbing her nose with a handkerchief. "I'm sure all those couples were in love once, too. Even my parents might have been in love when they married, but look what happened there. I wouldn't be here if they'd been happy together."
Glinda shook her head, gold hair glinting in the firelight. "Fiyero is not going to cheat on you, Elphie," she promised. "He's too good for that."
"I know," she replied, and her voice – though blocked up – was quiet. "I know he wouldn't deliberately hurt– a... aCHoo! Hurt me. Urg," she grumbled, rubbing her head, which had begun to throb from the force of the sneezing. "This is horrible. I want to go to sleep."
"No, I think you want to keep talking," said Glinda. "I think you want me to talk you out of turning him down."
Elphaba glanced down for a moment, green fingers absently tugging on a loose thread in the blanket, or maybe her skirt. It didn't matter, really, just something to focus on. She became very quiet, shivering a little, then said, "I don't think you can."
Her answer was a friendly wink. "Try me, Elphie. You know he loves you, and you're not afraid he'll cheat. What's next on my list of doubts to destroy?"
A small smile escaped her, and Elphaba turned, immeasurably grateful to have this woman as her friend. Nonetheless, she didn't sound hopeful when she replied, "It's not something you can fix or talk away. How do you know that if we do... if we... How can I know it's going to last forever?" she asked, voice wavering. "I know he means it now, but what if that changes? What if someday he falls out of love with me?"
Glinda hesitated. "What makes you think that'll happen?" she asked, stalling by taking the easy path. Elphaba was too quick for her.
"Because if it can happen to hundreds of other Ozians then it can happen to us. 'Happily Ever After' doesn't mean anything when people keep growing and changing. Getting married doesn't freeze anyone exactly as they are for the rest of their lives."
"It doesn't mean everything will change, either."
"But it might, Glinda, and I don't think I could handle tha–" She coughed again, several times, doubling over as her muscles clenched and air was forced out of her lungs. Regaining breath, she slumped down, miserable.
Her friend reached out to take the nearest green hand and squeezed. "Elphie, let me ask you something: Do you honestly think that you might fall out of love with him?"
There was a pause, and Elphaba's lips pressed together tightly. She looked away before she said, "It's not as though I've fallen in love a hundred times before."
"Oh," said Glinda, her voice dropping low like the thud of the proverbial penny. "You think he's flighty."
"He had a lot of relationships before you or I," replied Elphaba in a distant tone. "Someday he could lose interest, or fall for someone else, but I doubt there's anyone else in Oz who'll want me."
"He's grown up since then, you know. And stop being so self-pitifying; you wouldn't stay with him just to have somebody, Elphie – I know you better than that."
"That's not the issue. The issue is whether or not getting married would have political ramifications for the Vinkus or Munchkinland or either of our jobs here, and how bad the effects would be if it ended."
"You refuse to see anything romantically," said Glinda, almost pouting. "It's infuriating." Then, realising that her friend's phrasing had made it an undecided issue instead of a straightforward 'no', she smiled a little, but said nothing.
Elphaba deflated a bit. "Why does he want to change things, anyway?" she said, more to herself than Glinda. "Everything was fine the way it was."
"You'll have to ask him that," Glinda replied quietly, but with a firm, chiding undertone. "What I think is that you're being unfair. You didn't see his face out there; he's hurt, Elphie, and confused and upset. He proposed to you – obviously that means something to him – and you rejected it. Now you're acting as if the only heart on the line here is yours."
Her response was a flash of anger. "Who's side are you on, Glinda? I thought you were trying to help me."
"In case you've forgotten, Elphie, I have two best friends, and right now only one of them needs my help."
Jaw tight, Elphaba folded her arms and sat still, looking away – at least, until she sneezed again. Then she resumed her pose as if nothing had happened. Glinda sighed, reaching out to touch her arm.
"I know it's scary–"
"I'm not scared."
"Oh, don't lie to me," she scoffed. "You're terrified. I can see it. Anything that's not totally under your control scares you and you never admit it. You can't live like that, Elphie. Maybe it won't last forever if you marry him – I don't know. I just know that you have to take a chance or else you'll drive him away completely."
That hit home. Elphaba closed her eyes, dragging one hand over her face. "Now you're going to tell me I'll always regret it if I don't accept, right?"
"I don't have to; you already know that," she replied. "No, Elphie, I'm going to tell you that I don't know what's going to happen between you tomorrow, but you do have the chance to be happy now. Even if it does end someday, it's not going to change how good things are today."
"But if it does end–"
"Of course it will hurt. That's how you know you love him. But you also know that he cares enough to do the right thing; he wouldn't stay and lie to you if he somehow stopped loving you."
She shook her head, shivering again and tightening the blanket. "I don't know what he'd do."
Glinda's eyes narrowed. "Don't you?" she said sharply. "I'll remind you then, Elphie; when he realised he loved you more, he left me."
Elphaba winced – that was a stupid thing to have forgotten. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Show it by listening to me. When we broke up he was kind and respectful and didn't go near you for months just to make sure I'd be okay, and we weren't even close to being married. It hurt. I got over it. It wasn't the end of my life and it won't be the end of yours. You're strong, Elphie. You're not going to fall apart."
"Won't I?" she said quietly. "Glinda, I've never been this vulnerable before."
Glinda softened, reaching out to hug her friend, and pushed some floppy bits of black hair out of their way. "The only way this is going to go wrong is if you don't trust him. Go talk to him, Elphie. He needs to hear you to say that you love him. Everything will be fine."
Softer yet, in a breathy whisper, she asked, "How can you know?"
Glinda gave her a smile, and silk-clad arms tightened around her. "Instinct. I just do, Elphie. Trust me. Logic isn't going to help you now – in fact, I think it's hurting you." She waved a hand towards the door, unlocking it again and magically pulling it open. Elphaba tensed.
"Glinda, I can't– Not yet–"
Too late. Fiyero, looking mussed and tired, stood in the doorway. He'd obviously been waiting right outside. He stepped in slowly, watching as Elphaba stood up stiffly, nervous, arms wrapped tightly around her chest. "I'm sorry," she told him.
He was still a moment, eyes sliding from her to Glinda and back again, tension in his stance. "Is that a 'no'?" he asked.
"...that I ran off," she added, looking down. "I panicked."
Another pause. "So that's a 'yes'?"
"No. I mean... I don't know," she stammered, biting her lip and glancing at the window. "It's just... Why did you even ask? Why would you want to get married?"
"Be nice, Elphie," Glinda hissed, but Fiyero just shrugged.
"Why not?"
"I can think of about a thousand reasons why not!"
"And they're all about being green, right?"
A pause. Elphaba rubbed her elbow. "No, actually – not that that isn't a very good reason."
He snorted, shaking his head and sitting on a nearby chair, looking sad and tired. Elphaba started to pace again, the blanket still wrapped protectively around her. She couldn't quite look at him. "Why did you ask?" she repeated. "Why now? What's wrong with the way things are?"
Fiyero sighed. "Look, I'm sorry if it came out wrong, but I just never thought about the future until now. I don't know why – something you said sparked it, can't remember what. But now that I do think about it, I know what I want, and for some reason I thought you'd want the same." He shrugged. "Guess I was wrong."
And oh, ouch, there it was – the hurt. Glinda was right; she'd cut him very deeply. Elphaba walked towards him, but couldn't quite make the last few steps, nor pull her arms away from their tight, protective places clamped to her ribs and elbows. "I never said I didn't," she told him, trying to put her honest feelings into her tone. "I just don't understand why you want things to change. What we have now is perfect."
"No, what we have now is temporary," he replied, looking up at her. "Being together like this is like saying, 'I like you, so let's try it and see how it works'. Getting married is saying, 'I love you and this does work, and I really want it to last'."
"But there's so much more to it than that," cried Elphaba, backing away again. Glinda, now standing, didn't let her go far. "It's so formal, Fiyero – there are so many promises involved that we can't or wouldn't keep!"
"Like what? What would be so hard to for us to deal with?"
"Publicity," she shot back. "Everyone would know. Everyone. We'd have to deal with the press and our families and it could change the way we're seen and our jobs–"
"So you won't marry me because it's inconvenient," he said flatly, and his deliberate choice of words threw her.
"No!" she protested. "No, but... but you know how they like to make assumptions about us. They'll look up our pasts and slander Glinda, and–"
"Glinda," he told her, "deserves better than to be used as your excuse."
Cut off cold, Elphaba closed her mouth, looking apologetically at their friend, who just nodded and said, "Thank you, Fiyero."
"I didn't mean it like that," stammered Elphaba, still hiding in her blanket and standing stiffly beside a bedpost. "But there's also..." She hesitated. "Well, you were... before... when you..."
Glinda smoothly took over. "She means she's worried because you had a lot of girlfriends before either of us."
Fiyero just nodded, sighing. "I wondered when that would come up," he said. Elphaba turned to him, startled, and he almost smiled at her expression. "Yeah, I know that bothers you. You avoid the subject so obviously that it's hard not to. What do you want me to say? That I never cared about any of them?"
She shook her head, shrugging. "I don't know. Maybe... that none of them were ever that serious, or that you knew beforehand that they wouldn't work, or... something."
"I can't. Not unless you want me to lie."
Her eyes squeezed shut.
"Look, they weren't all serious. Some were–" he glanced at Glinda, who smiled "–and you always wonder if this time it's going to work out, but that's... They were different, all right? That's all I can tell you," he said, standing and taking hold of her upper arms, making her look at him. "You're special. You're fanatic and crazy and ridiculous and right now I want to scream at you, but I love you and I want this to last. I want it to be real, and I'm tired of hiding – we've been together almost four years. I want to tell everyone that you're mine, and vice-versa."
"For as long as you are mine," she replied, voice soft and looking steadily at his shirt buttons. She shook her head, glancing up. "But what if things go wrong? What if we fight? What if something happens that we can't fix?"
"What would we possibly fight over?"
"Children," she replied. "I don't want them – and don't pretend that you don't," she warned as he opened his mouth to reply. "I've seen you with your sister, and Dian, and those kids at the parade and the orphanage last year. You love children. I don't, and don't ever want one."
Rather comically, she punctuated this by lifting her head and tilting her chin up, staring him in the eye as though challenging him to fight. Fiyero replied, "Okay."
Startled, she lost her poise. "Sorry?"
"I said 'okay', Elphaba," he repeated. "I can live with that. Kind of expected it, to be honest. And just because I like them doesn't mean I want my own. That kind of responsibility scares the hell out of me."
He could have been lying – it was possible, he wasn't quite meeting her eyes – but there was no chance to find out. Sliding his hands down her arms, gently now, he pried her fingers from their death-grip on her elbows and held both her hands between his own. "Elphaba," he said, "just answer me two questions, all right?"
She nodded slowly, feeling her heart beat way too fast, out of control, and it had nothing to do with her fever. His eyes fixed on hers.
"Do you love me?"
That was easy. One tight nod. "Yes."
"Do you want this to last?"
She floundered, drawing back and saying, "But what if–?"
"Yes or no, Elphaba," he instructed, holding onto her. After a moment, he added, "Please."
She swallowed hard and looked down, seeing the lamplight flicker on the wooden floor beneath their feet, the warm rug they'd bought a month ago, and the edge of her bedpost, its dark wood glowing in the light. Glinda was standing very still behind her, casting a shadow on the pillows, and Fiyero's hands were warm, though the very tips of his fingers were cooler. His left sock had a little hole in, and through it she could see one toe, but he was still looking at her intently, entirely unaware of it. She couldn't lie, even if she'd wanted to.
"Yes, I do," she said. " I just think–"
He covered her lips with his fingers, smiling again. "Stop thinking for a minute, okay? Will you marry me?"
She closed her eyes. Stop thinking, she told herself, fighting to breathe steadily. Stop thinking. Just stop. Answer. Trust him.
"...Yes," she finally said, looking down and away. "Yes, I... guess so."
There was a brief silence.
"Well, that was enthusiastic," said Glinda, frowning. "Really, Elphie, you're terrible. No romanticness at all."
Fiyero laughed, breaking the tension, and Elphaba looked down, feeling her cheeks heat up. He tugged on her hands, pulling her into his arms and pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Thank you," he whispered.
She returned the hug, still more tense than not, and said, "I love you," because she knew he needed to hear it.
"Oh, Elphie, can't you be more excited than that?" demanded Glinda, unable to keep from grinning as she skipped around to their side. "You'll be a bride! You're getting married! Doesn't that make you the least bit happy?"
It was starting to spark a funny sort of glee in her belly, yes, but it didn't show very well on her face. She shrugged awkwardly and looked up at Fiyero, hoping he understood. "I never really thought much about weddings before."
"Bah – every little girl dreams of being a bride at some point," Glinda scoffed. "Everyone wants this. Look, Fiyero's happy."
Considering the huge grin that wouldn't leave his face, that was hardly arguable. Elphaba smiled a little wider, looking up at him–
Then sneezed again, the force of it jerking her head down and very nearly smacking his chin as she rushed to block her nose with her sleeve. "Urgh!" she scowled, "I hate being sick!" But there was no real anger in her exclamation, and after a moment her lips turned up, the humour of their situation dawning. She grinned as they laughed at her. "Sorry."
Fiyero made a show of wrinkling his nose and theatrically dusting off the front of his shirt before snaking his arms around her again and tugging at the small of her back. "I forgive you," he said magnanimously. "But only because you said yes."
Then he kissed her, quite thoroughly, fingers trailing along the skin of her back. She might not be too thrilled about their wedding right now, but he had his own way of getting her excited about it.
"I really don't need to see that," Glinda cheerfully informed them as Fiyero moved on to her neck, and Elphaba blushed furiously, trying not to let her eyes fall closed out of habit. She pulled away, though not far, lacing their fingers and looking up at him.
"Fiyero, if – if we're going to do this, then I want to do it right," she said hesitantly. "And that means asking my father first."
He made a face at that (mostly at the word "if", which was now evil and had to be expunged from the Ozian vocabulary by any means necessary), but shrugged, untroubled, and asked, "Which father?"
It was a reasonable question. She hesitated. "...Both. Both of them. Frex and Oscar. And Nessa – I want to tell her about this myself. She shouldn't hear it from anyone else." Then Elphaba shook her head, feeling a bit lost as the enormity of their decision started to set in. "When will this even happen?"
Fiyero shrugged again, not really caring about the details, but Glinda, who loved them, lit up like a small sun. "You can have a spring wedding!" she exclaimed, bouncing on her toes and clapping her hands together. "Spring, with all the blossoms and flowers – or summer! Summer's perfect, if you can wait that long. Ooo! It could be right between your birthdays, so – er – five months from now. I'm planning it for you, right? Please can I plan your wedding, please please please please please?"
Fiyero chuckled and took one arm from Elphaba's waist to reach out to her. "Of course," he said. "Who else?"
She squealed, bypassing his offered hand to leap at them both, throwing her arms around their necks and shrieking "THANK YOU!" loudly enough to make their ears ring. "Oh, this'll be wonderful! I've got to start making a list!" She hopped down and began whirling around the room, looking for paper, her silk dressing gown glinting in the lamp light. "As soon you've seen Oscar tomorrow we'll go over it and go into town and look at dresses and cakes and–"
"We still have to work, you know," Elphaba reminded her with a smile, which may or may not have been influenced by Fiyero's happy return to kissing her neck.
"Pshaw," replied Glinda. "You're still sick, and we're all probably infected. We're taking another day off." Looking up from her scribbles, she opened her mouth to ask something – then paused and shook her head. Both her friends were too wrapped up in each other to notice a word of it. "I'm off to bed," she announced. "You two can stay and celebrate any way you want. Goodnight, Fiyero, if you can still hear me in there."
He looked up, actually a bit embarrassed, but replied with great dignity. "Goodnight, Glinda. And thank you," he added earnestly, stepping away from Elphaba to give her a very big hug. "Thank you for doing this. We owe you."
She shrugged, titling her head and smiling at him. "You're my friends," she said, and it was all the explanation they needed. Backing off towards the door, she said, "I'll see you in the morning."
"Goodn-aa– aCHOO!"
They laughed. "Goodnight to you too, Elphie," said Glinda, and she danced out through the sitting room, notes in hand. "Sleep well."
The heavy wooden door closed with a clunk, and Elphaba winced, but the pounding headache had faded into a general feeling of her skull being stuffed with cotton, and the noise didn't actually hurt. In the newfound quiet, characteristic of their friend's absence, she turned to Fiyero and stroked his cheek.
"I love you," she said. "I'm sorry I panicked."
"I'm still mad at you," he replied lightly, though with serious eyes. "But... well, you said yes, and that's what matters." He smiled and kissed her again, properly, then added, "I love you too, you know."
She returned it in kind, eyes closed, holding him tight for much longer, and when at last she let go her breathing was shallow, blood singing in her veins. "I know."
Another kiss, another hug, and more. Their winter clothes were thick enough to keep out the cold, but that didn't last long, and with his lips tracing the outline of her ear, Elphaba could definitely say that she was getting excited.
She tugged on his shoulders, eyes still closed and kissing her favourite diamond tattoo as she backed them both towards her bed. He grinned, pausing to pull back and look at her. "I thought you weren't feeling up to having 'fun' tonight."
"Oh, shut up," she said, and kissed him.
Back in her own suite, Glinda shut the door and smiled softly. In the dark and silence, she wasn't quite as bouncy and giddy as before, but she was happy, for herself and for them. Of course, it would have been nice to be planning her own wedding, but as she picked up a picture of herself and Tevien, opening a curtain to look at it in the moonlight, she knew that this wasn't the time. She wasn't ready, wasn't sure, and for the first time in her life, that fact alone made it all okay.
Glinda Upland went to sleep a happy woman, and the next day she had quite a laugh watching Tevien Duvot stammer adorably when Elphaba sternly informed him that it was his fault she would be married by summer.
The day after that, Fiyero came down with a cold, too. He decided that it was worth it.